


Yfirmadr Proell

by Aikosan28, Madison



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Character Death, Dark, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Lemon, Old Norse, Oral Sex, Romance, Slavery, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-06-03
Packaged: 2018-02-03 07:34:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1736426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aikosan28/pseuds/Aikosan28, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madison/pseuds/Madison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A chieftain has died, proclaiming his son, and heir, to be the rightful successor. It is his son’s duty to see to his funeral, insuring his journey to the afterlife is complete. The sun raises igniting hope for a new beginning, yet the Angel of Death shall extinguish all hope, insisting on taking the one woman Lord Sesshomaru has ever allowed into his cold heart, for his father’s selfish wish insists this one woman shall follow him to the afterlife. (Co-written By Madison)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yfirmadr Proell

**Author's Note:**

> Written By: Aiko-san and Madison (Maddie-san)
> 
> Disclaimer: We do not claim to own any characters associated with the Anime/Manga ‘Inuyasha’.
> 
>  
> 
> Author(s) Note: One night Maddie and I were talking and I suggested a co-write. I had just recently watched the show ‘Vikings’ and became interested in the ritualistic background associated with their pagan religion. So, Maddie was too kind and decided to do some research for me, with some knowledge I had already provided her with, to see if it was true. We were pleasantly surprised and then decided we were going to take a stab at a one-shot involving our favorite Inuyasha ship. Please take note, that this is an A/U.
> 
> Sesshomaru- Madison
> 
> Kagome- Aiko-san
> 
> Song Associated with Fic: Now We Are Free By: Lisa Gerrard
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings: This story contains graphic imagery! It contains violence, sex, death and much more. This story isn’t for the faint of heart! This is a dark story with barely any happy moments (Which means no surprises!!!)). 18 and over please, you have been warned!
> 
>  
> 
> Summary: A chieftain has died, proclaiming his son, and heir, to be the rightful successor. It is his son’s duty to see to his funeral, insuring his journey to the afterlife is complete. The sun raises igniting hope for a new beginning, yet the Angel of Death shall extinguish all hope, insisting on taking the one woman Lord Sesshomaru has ever allowed into his cold heart, for his father’s selfish wish insists this one woman shall follow him to the afterlife.

….

…

..

.

.

..

…

….

…oOoOoOoOo…

 

Dawn was gently breaking through the horizon, pastels colors of pink and orange painting over the piercing blue of the sky. An eerie silence filled the large land, only broken by the sound of the waves washing up on the muddy shore. A chilly morning breeze swirled through the air, bringing an unnecessary gloom to the chieftain’s house. The home was moderately quiet, safe for the footsteps of all those who were hard at work, busy preparing the funeral.

The eldest son sat near the window, his golden eyes staring into the emptiness. Two long magenta stripes accentuated his cheekbones while a lonesome navy blue moon was engraved on his forehead. His long shiny silver locks were pulled back in a tress, his bangs held away from his face by an amber and bronze headpiece. His legs were stretched out, his brown leather boots still on his feet.

He sighed silently before tugging on the sleeves of his crimson woollen shirt which caused his yellow sash to rise above his navel.

They would speak to him soon; his exceptionally crabby mood radiating through his aura would not put them off for long. He tapped his long clawed digits along the cobble stone edge of the window, scoffing internally. They believed him to be grieving for the loss of his Father, the chieftain. They thought he was planning every detail, assuring that he would be rightfully honoured.

The thought had not even crossed his mind.

Instead his mind was filled with dark thoughts, hoping to find a solution to his dilemma; how to save her. If he failed to come up with a fix to this, he would lose her before the sun reached its peak in the sky.

His Father was – had been - one of the greatest chieftain their warrior tribe had seen. He brought prosperity, blood, and victory to the people. A fatal wound during the latest conquest had nagged at him for many moons before his old body gave into the solace of death. As a highly regarded warrior and leader, he would be honoured properly and everyone was assuring that no detail was overlooked.

He might be the next chieftain of the tribe – as long as he could beat and defeat anyone who would dare to challenge the title. And he would. When it came to battle strategy and swordsmanship, he had no equal. He ripped, he killed and he destroyed with no mercy. He did not stop until blood stained the earth and hearts were no longer beating. He would love the challenge but he doubted anyone would pretend to be his equal in battle. His Father thought him important lessons through the years. A warrior never gave up, a warrior never cowered. Most of all, he respected the titles, the gods and the leader.

Except when it came to her. Those were the times that he broke the rules – even though he never meant to do such irreparable deeds. He wished to forget the look of her skin, the shine of her blue eyes and the feels of her lips upon his flesh. The torture of never experiencing her body was worse than the nights he had to hear them, pleasing one another, sharing the same bed while their limbs intertwined. He could only dream of her while another laid his hands all over her, marking her, taking her.

Despite the illusion he created for himself, she was never his. He could have taken her, left everything behind and ran away where no one would ever find them but he could not. His title, his pride - they were things he would never give up. Yet that did nothing to explain the ache in his heart and the swelling and heaviness in his chest that made it hard to breathe, crushing his lungs each time he inhaled.

His eyebrows gathering in, scrunching his face while he threw his shoulders back. It served no purpose to dwell upon memories of her face, lingering feelings of her touch; the ritual could not be suspended and she could not be traded for another. Tonight, he would lose her while she went to spend eternity with him. Even death could not separate them, even death did not allow him to feel her body.

“My Lord?” a voice interrupted.

His eyes snapped in direction of the woman, watching her as she bowed ever so slightly, her cream coloured apron leaning forward as she did so. “Lord Sesshomaru, the slave is ready.”

He ceased to breathe but his face remained as stoic as always, his mask skilfully in place.

“Bring her.”

…0o0o0o0o0o…

 

 

A pair of hazy blue eyes looked to the heavens, praying to their gods. Or praying to whatever god would listen... Had anyone been listening to her over the years? She prayed for a miracle. Her lord was now dead. Her heart was heavy, but for all the wrong reasons. This young woman now felt she held no purpose on this earth, especially since she knew she couldn't have the one thing she desired most. What would she do? A tear escaped the corner of her eye, allowed her lips to part, gasping in a breath of fresh sea air. Lowering her chin, Kagome wrapped her arms around herself speaking in her native tongue.

The soft wisps of wind traveled from the sea, caressing over her small frame. Her black hair floated across her soft features, bleeding into the soft tears staining her rosy cheeks. Releasing a soft breath she stood upon the rock formation just steps from the sea. The roar of the waves caught her attention, giving her a sense of calm. Flecks of water splattered against her exposed legs. She pulled the material up higher, looking down at her wiggling toes. What if she walked out and never looked back? She could let the sea take her away, end it on her own accord. She could always run, but she must tell him first. No, she couldn’t. Kagome knew he was ultimately obligated to his father’s will. He may allow her to leave, but he wouldn’t leave his life behind for a silly slave girl… She could never disrespect him, look down into those pools of gold and see the disappointment and sadness.

If only I had found you first…if only I chose you first…

Kagome had been but a child when she was sold to her first owner, a young girl of just thirteen. She had been a naive child, especially when it came to learning ways of life or what it meant to exist. As the ignored child, she didn’t fully understand pain until she had been sold without a second thought.

Coming from a poor family, the young girl had been sold to traders in order to obtain coin to feed the others. Kagome was the oldest of all of her siblings, existing only in the shadows. Her father often referred to her as the ‘outcast’. It was true her soul had been out caste, feeling as if she was but an empty shell most of her childhood. Her life changed when she first arrived off the coast of their country.

After months on a ship, the sight of the vibrant yet rocky land was a breath of fresh air. But, it was a façade, in which held torment and pain. Her small body had been battered and bruised along with her already damaged soul, pealing a part of her with all the beatings she had suffered. Her treatment was unfair, cruel. She barely survived on the open seas, but somehow she made it through the torment and the crippling fever.

The first year she served in a large hall, none as large as her Lord’s, but still a fully function facility with a plethora of tasks and duties for all thralls. Immediately being shunned by the older, experienced hall maids, she was given lowly tasks to keep her from their sights. Her duties were secluded to one portion, the hall. Over time they began to introduce her to other duties besides cleaning shoes and cleaning the muddy wooden floors. She was taught to serve. Kagome learned to serve wine, mead, and ale as well as feed hungry soldiers. Serving was easy, doing it correctly was difficult. Everyone enjoyed it differently; some even brought their own sex thralls in to show the women different ways serving could be accomplished. It was a horrifying sight to behold, as some women went farther to please their owners than most. But no man wanted her anyway. She was just a child in their eyes.

Her soft curves barely proving she was no longer a child, but had showed clear signs of adolescence. She was nothing compared to those young women who warmed the beds of the important men. Most where men who had raided, killed, tortured innocent souls. These floozy women wore hand-me-down gowns with low cut scoop necks to flash their massive breasts as they bent over to serve. That is what the men desired when they came, ripe breasts, soft curves and these thralls had it all. She only wanted to prove her worth. She wanted to be desired, not a toy for drunken idiots to torment with sticks and whips. She wanted to blossom.

It wasn’t long before she, too, began to bleed, proving she was a woman. Her breasts budded and her hips widened. She was soon a girl of seventeen winters. Eyes began to wander. People began to talk of her blossoming beauty. She was proud of it. She was a flower now bloomed, and yet that flower had yet to be plucked. That was until he visited… her lord Inutaisho.

It had been a rainy night; she had been busy cleaning boots when the hall door was kicked open. Boisterous laughter sounded, the men riled instantly when they set eyes on this mysterious man. Her lord had beckoned her to the hall. A silver haired man, thudding into the hall with armor larger than most men could handle. Twin violet stripes adorned his cheeks, accenting those expressive amber eyes.

He was a powerful war lord and close friends with her current Lord and master. He, indeed, proved his worth for he had won many battles. With a young son in tow, the older lord spoke of his glorious battles in which he stole plenty of treasures and amplified his wealth. His wealth had been much deserved with the lengths he took in order to obtain it. Not only was he talented on the battle field, he was talented in the bed-sport. Women of the hall swooned around him and he rewarded them all. Anyone who beckoned, he came to prove himself as a man. He took many women, women of her owner’s hall, women she knew and spoke with. Everyone but her…

Was she too much of a child?

Those amber eyes would meet hers, yet no words. He knew she was innocent. He could scent it on her. He would look, but not touch. He was a beautiful lord; she didn’t and couldn’t deny it. Deep down she wished he would just put her out of her misery and take what he so desperately wanted. She could see it in his eyes. Kagome desperately wished to be made a woman.

“You are an innocent,” He shook his head, “I don’t do innocent…”

His words still haunted her. It angered her, frustrated her. What was her innocence worth? She had a say, she could give it away whenever she so pleased, yes? So, one evening as they all lay asleep she went to him. She had slipped into his rooms, which he lay awake as if waiting for her. It was as if he had seen into her heart and knew of her plan the entire time. Stopping before his bed of furs, Kagome almost hesitated fearing those wise eyes for just a moment. Finally, with a flip of his arm, the furs were peeled away offering her a place inside its warmth and he then took what they both so desperately wanted, no, needed. The valiant war lord took her, took all of her as she had wished. Marking her, making her his. He did just that, purchasing her for a good amount of coin. 

Kagome thought she could be happy with him, but she forgot one thing…she was a slave. A thrall was no wife. A concubine was no wife. He visited others beds, tossed them aside, yet she remained. She stayed at his side with continuous heart break. She received a good portion of his heart as well as gifts, but his attention swayed and changed like the seasons. Inutaisho had only one bastard during the course of their relationship and the day she discovered who it was who carried the seed of her Lord, it sent her almost over the edge. Her heart had been broken, torn into bits and pieces. Little did she know that even if he had given her everything she so desperately wanted, she still wouldn’t be happy, not truly.

The child had been male, releasing the woman from her enslavement. Jealousy had taken hold of her sweet innocent heart, wishing terribly things upon that slut and her bastard child. That night she had run…

Finding solstice in the woods to cry silently, but the son of her lord had followed her, scented her tears. Leaning against a massive tree he watched without saying a word. Kagome had yelled at him, unintentionally, which he surprised her with a respectful greeting. He didn't lay one finger on her, just sat and watched, offering her sweet words to calm her. This young lord had barley paid her any mind over the years, only glancing at her with distaste most nights. Sesshomaru had always seemed more irritated with her very presence more than anything. He had grown from that awkward boy to a strong man. His shoulders now board, his face cold, yet handsome. He was the future of this land. Kagome didn’t understand the meaning to this random meeting, but he put her at ease. From that night their meetings happened often, under the vision of the moon.

It never changed. What did this young lord want? She didn’t know. Soon his innocent glances became bolder. He would follow her into the forest and watch her bathe. The young demon he would reach out, yet never touch. Her naïve feelings for the war lord began to dwindle as she realized a different meaning to this feeling of ‘want’. She learned what true love felt like. Her heart yearned for Sesshomaru, and she knew he longed for her too even if she didn’t belong to him. She was the first person he came to see when they arrived back from raiding, offering her soft kisses and mild touches. The soft tendrils of his hair, those plush lips, gods, she wished to feel him against her. She couldn’t. The demon lord would know. Inutaisho would beat her if he had ever scented his son’s seed upon her delicate womanly part. Sesshomaru was no fool either for he was fearful his father would scent him on her skin. The young lord smelled his father on her for weeks after a single bedding, which had been less and less as new toys captured his attentions. They were in constant torment, torn between their intense need to feel one another and duty.

…

...

“Kagome,” A soft voice pulled her from her deep thought. A warm robe was tossed over her shoulder, heating her instantly. Her skin was frigid to the touch, yet she didn't quake. She was numb.

Her sad eyes shifted from the violent waves. The cool foamy trails of water seeped up, rushing a cool path across her legs. Dropping her gown she glanced over her shoulder. The bronze medallions upon her shoulders gleamed as they captured the sun’s reflection. Kagome tightened the fur robe around slipped away from the ice cold waters slowly.

“Yes?”

“The young lord wishes to see you,” The servant muttered, sadly glancing her way.

Of course he does…

“I will be there in a moment.” She said, feeling a knot form in her throat.

She was to die today. It was custom for the favored servant to die and meet her lord in the afterlife. Her sad soul would be put out of its misery. Turning upon her heel, Kagome lifted her sheer, pastel pink gown and swiftly took off. She rushed across the cobble pathway leading her directly to the long hall. The sun had barely cascaded over the large hill, creating a dim shadow upon the path. She was instantly was thankful for the lit lanterns illuminating a path. She pushed through the doorway and headed to her lord’s room, no, it was his room now. Kagome entered slowly and approached his calm form. Without another word, the dark haired woman dropped to her knees.

“My Lord,” She muttered with much distress, feeling tears prickle in her eyes.

…oOoOoOoOo…

Her voice rang in his ears, soft, giving him the impression that she was caressing his skin with it. He kept his gaze high, never daring to look at her, never inspecting her garments – he did not want to see what she looked like, prepped for him, ready to join him for an eternity of touches and passion. A passion he was so painfully denied.

His eyes shifted to the door which was now closed. He could hear the steps of the servant as she walked away, far from hearing range.

He rose from the wooden chair he sat in moments before her arrival. The strawberry red cushion shifted in shape as he lifted his weight from it. The woven cloth of his beige pants rubbed against his flesh, waving through the air with each step he took. His boots clacked in contact with the wooden floor and he waited until her head hit his knees before he came to a halt. He closed his eyes, basking in the feeling of her touching him. He desired to eliminate all distance between them but it was a fantasy.

Sesshomaru rarely let himself make physical contact with her - with her bare flesh. He brushed past her once, his arm pressing against hers. He accidently felt her lips on the palm of his hand as she clumsily tripped and his hand caught her before she hurt herself – though a bit too late to avoid the contact. He saw no need in torturing himself. The risks could not be overlooked and instead of knowing what her lips tasted like, instead of dwelling in the pleasure hidden between her legs, he imagined it.

He lifted his hand, hovering it over her head; how many nights did he spend wishing for nothing more than to run his fingers through her soft dark locks? He had no memories, no pieces of her to keep with him once she departed to join his Father. All he had was the mere sights of her as she bathed, the water running between the valleys of her breasts, the soap lathering her curves.

It was not enough. He was selfish, he wanted more. He deserved more.

Until now, he could not leave a scent on her, he could not mark her flesh with his claws and fangs. She was to remain bare, pure for his Father to take whenever he was bored. If he took her now, if he let himself slip into the insanity that was his desire, nobody would know…until she reached her Father in the other world. Then, he would be punished because she was not his to feel and to corrupt.

Restricting himself, he lowered his arm and allowed it to rest by his side. He could see the small tremble in her body as she shook on the ground, her knees grazing against the wood. She never once lifted her head, not once did she tried to sneak a peak at him. Perhaps it was better; did he wish to see her face, the face she would have forever while she laid at his Father’s side?

He could already see hints of the pink gown and the only desire it brought within him was the one to rip it apart to shred until she stood naked in front of his eyes. He wanted to feast on her body, mark and slice her precious pale skin until red blood dripped from it, reminding her that he owned her, that she was his to torture and nobody else’s.

Control, he reminded himself as his felt an uncomfortable shifting and tightening in his pants.

“Rise,” he ordered, his voice rasp, hiding the desire bursting within his chest.

…oOoOoOoOo…

 

Kagome felt her body quiver. Heat bloomed across her small frame, shooting to the pit of her belly. His soft scent filled her nose. She inhaled, focusing on those massive boots, thudding with each step upon the floor boards. Those blue eyes darkened, skimming up the length of his strong, muscular thighs, which were flexing with each step. He marched coming closer to her side. Her breathing sped up, feeling almost light headed with anticipation.

Her eyes roamed the floor boards. Her delicate fingers gripped the tight, damp material upon her wet thighs. Kagome closed her eyes as a whoosh of air floated over her, brushing her black locks away from her bare shoulders. His knees brushed her forehead, pressing forward to feel the warmth of his body. Her fingers twitched against her thighs, feeling his hand descend to her face, brushing over her unintentionally. Her lips parted, seeking that flesh, whatever she could get. She kissed at those digits, reaching up carefully as if debating on capturing that hand and devouring it. She wanted to taste him, one last time. Gods, she wished he would bury those strong hands in her thick tresses.

Gods, please…just take me…

She heard herself say; begging to the lord above that he would just give into the many months of painful desire and take what was rightfully his. Her eyes lifted, sucking in a breath and leaning in to allowing her trembling lips to brush across the rough skin of his palm before her took it away from her.

“Rise…” His gruff voice cascaded over her like a lover’s caress.

Those beautiful amber eyes refused to look upon her, and without a moment more she stood slowly. Her knees were trembling, fearing that this moment would be taken away from her. She needed to see him; she needed to look into his eyes. Those amber eyes gave her hope and, to her, felt like a strong, protective embrace. It was something she didn’t want to give up.

“My lord,” Her voice croaked, almost begging.

Kagome lifted her hand, hesitating a brief moment. She feared nothing more than to be rejected by him at this delicate moment in her life. A soft groan escaped her lips. She shook her head and held her hands in front of her, watching as they quivered with fear. Was it really almost over?

“Please?” She whispered, allowing her tongue to breach her rose petal lips, wetting them, “I beseech you.” Kagome drawled her words, finally reaching out to grip the woollen material of his top.

She didn’t want to lose this for the sole reason of the previous lord’s hold on her. Her whole life she had wished for a happy ending, prayed for it. Could she never be happy? Her blue eyes lifted, searching the cold features of the young lord who had captured her heart, her true heart.

…oOoOoOoOo…

He thought his control would slip, he was certain that his body would betray him when he heard her beg innocently as she called him her lord. Did she see him as strong? Did she think he had the control to resist her forever? He was already on the brink of insanity as he channelled of all his power simply to keep himself from touching her and roaming his hands over every curve her body had to offer.

Then, she made it worse.

“Please,” her voice only a whisper, he almost missed it. Her tongue hypnotized him, took his focus away while he fought to keep his hands by his side. “I beseech you.”

The moment she took hold of him, he exhaled and felt as though the air was knocked from his lungs. She never begged him, she never touched him. Now, she was gripping to him as though her life depended on him, her blue eyes begging him to free her from the shackles that held her down. His fangs dug in his lips, drawing filaments of blood. He ran his tongue over his mouth, smearing it across his lips and tainting them red.

She was crisping at the fabric of his shirt with her tiny hand and he knew she had to be stopped. If he let her beg one more time, his will would bend. He raised a hand and then delicately wrapped his fingers around her wrist, he meant to be soft but the desire of everything he was being denied was to great to ignore; he squeezed it, numbing her fingers because of his strong hold. Her watched her eyes widen and he leaned forward, her small breaths puffing over his lips. His tongue darted out, as though he could taste her soft mouth – but he could not. Blood was the only taste in his mouth.

“Do you think you are mine to take?” He squeezed a little harder. “Do you believe I hold any power?”

Each time he spoke, fury within his chest rose to higher peak. How could he be expected to hold it all inside?

 The way she looked at him, so innocently – it angered him. He wanted to take her, punish her and toss her aside all at once. His senses were heightened and he barely managed to keep himself from caressing her satiny skin. It felt better than he imagined, softer, warmer. The fluttering in his chest, the one that made his heart ready to burst, turned into a mild pain.

He needed her off of him or he would ravage her.

His temper made his cold amber eyes flare red with fury and before either of them had a chance to take a breathe, he was slamming her against the nearby wall, the tiny stones pressing into her back, probably hurting her since she winced. He took her hand and lifted it above her head, holding it there. His chest was pressing against hers, squashing her breasts, a hint of them daring to pop from the top of her pink gown.

“If I could have you, if I could touch you,” he began, his breath teasing her sensitive skin as he hovered over her bare neck, never once gracing her with the touch of his lips. “You’d already be naked with my cock inside of you.”

…oOoOoOoOo…

 

Hot air forced itself from her lungs, giving her the illusion that she was suffocating. Kagome clawed at the rough material of his top, arching forward as he shoved her tiny frame against the wall. Her head collided with that hard surface. She gasped out, tightening her features as a stab of pain traveled the length of her body. He held her so tight, forcing his muscular body tightly to her lush form. She could feel his want. He needed this closeness even if he wasn’t actually being able to lay with her, claim her. She knew that deep down he wished to lay her down and place his scent all over her. Without much care, she pressed her straining breast to his torso, knowing full well she was teasing his control. She was stroking the monster in which threatened to come clawing out. Her soul was damned anyway, right?

Don't say such things...

 

His soft, hot breath brushed her cheek. Her blue eyes pooled with tears and flutter closed. She whispered softly the next second. Kagome was a quivering mess. Her soft figure heating instantly as she finally heard his gruff voice against her ear. His tone was seductive, yet filled with such malice. He wasn't angry with her, but at the same time with him as well. He was angry with him for his selfish request.

“If I could have you, if I could touch you. You’d already be naked with my cock inside of you.”

Those words nearly had her begging. She wanted to threaten him, dare him to do so. Who cared if they would be damned? Why not just allow the shackles to be released and give into their selfish desires. Of course, because he held his father in high esteems, even though he had caused so much pain. He was still Lord Sesshomaru’s father. To question the previous lord was also challenging his men, and believe it or not they still stood strong behind him even in death. It wouldn't end well if the funeral wasn't prepped perfectly.

She turned her watery eyes away from him, sniffling and swiping a hand across her wet cheeks, “I am sorry,” Kagome’s voice trembled, “I am not yours to take. It was he who I truly belonged.” Her eyes dried some, and with that final ounce of strength she turned to him, looking him in his pained eyes and spoke, “I belonged to him only in body, I belong to you spiritually. My heart has always been yours. Don’t pretend you never knew. I always knew…I know there is nothing that can be done. I am to be sent to the next life, to live with your father, to serve him as I have done for years.” Her lower lip trembled, feeling her eyes tear up once again as her sad gaze searched his face. She allowed her fingers to travel across his cold cheek, stroking those vibrant streaks.

Sesshomaru tensed against her, she could feel it instantly. The feel of his hard body against her had her knees turning to jelly. His hips pressed against her, unintentionally allowing her to feel his straining member which was pressing tightly to his breeches. Another soft whimper escaped her lips.

To feel your lips…

Her mouth parted, forcing herself to stay far away from him. The dark haired female pressed her hands to the plains of his hard chest, pushing softly trying to fill her lungs with air. Those blue orbs shifted toward the soft candle light, flickering in the dark. It was a reminder of her life. Now lit, but soon would be extinguished.

…oOoOoOoOo…

He felt the pressure of her tiny hands on his chest as she used all of her strength to push him away yet he barely budged. Her words echoed in his head but it did nothing to calm his pressing urges and only served to surge his desire, spreading through him like a disease through his veins. He was not only denying himself the pleasure of her flesh, he was also denying her the wonders she had never tasted. He heard her lay with his Father, he knew he could show her satisfaction she could not even imagine.

At the thought, his length pulsed, enjoying the feeling of being pressed against her. His claws were pressing the edge of her flesh, ready to break the skin and watch the blood spill.

Sesshomaru saw her eyes focusing away, her mind being taken from him. Her words replayed in his head but he saw a fault in them.

“Your soul might be mine but it is your body that will be left behind.” He knew. He noticed every single day that her heart was his. She let him watch her bath, she allowed him to roam his eyes over the beauty that was her porcelain skin and she let him listen as she sang songs in a language that was foreign to his ears. “He will have the soul that belongs to me and I will have the body that is his.”

He could not delight in the pleasure of her womanhood; it would taint her soul. However, there was one rule he could break, one that would leave no trace. He could touch her. Her soul would never be imprinted with his scent. His Father would be none the wiser and he would never offend his memory. At the simple thought of his hands touching her, wherever he pleased, his tongue lapping at the swell of her breasts, he shivered in pleasure and felt a shifting in his heart, like a pang.

Her eyes focused on him again, the tears drying at the corner of her eyes. He would begin there. He saw the fear flashing in her light orbs as he approached her face. She held her breath, her head ready to flinch back as though his lips would burn her. He raised a hand, cupping her cheek and holding her in place at the same time. His fingertips tingled at the sensation of finally caressing her.

Then, he pressed his mouth to her left eye, tasting the saltiness of her tears smudging across his lips. His pulse raced while he poked his tongue out, licking her flesh, tasting the skin. Vanilla, cherries. Tastes were mixing together as his control slipped and his hands lowered, freeing her, until they found their way to her shoulders. Claws were prickling her skin as he looked into her eyes. He noticed the smudges of blood he left near her eye but he ignored it.

Sesshomaru had something else entirely in mind. He was asking for her permission. Permission to free her from the dress so that he may run his palms across her stomach and bury his hands in her soft, large breasts. He could ravage her without her consent and he knew she would be a willing participant but he wanted her to fall with him into the abyss even though there was no safety, no promise that he would catch her.

He wanted her to say it.

…oOoOoOoOo…

 

“My body...my soul,” she cried out, becoming lost as his tongue dipped from his mouth to draw tantalizing trails over the swell of her heaving breasts.

Kagome could barely breathe, for she was lost in complete and utter desire for him and at the same time she wanted to strike him down. How dare he say such things to her? To remind her of her impending doom was torture. Who was she kidding; she had been dwelling on that very thought for two days. He just verbalized it, but still, she didn't want to hear it. As much as she wished she could take back her innocents all those years ago, it wouldn't change anything. If it wasn't for that one ridiculous mistake she would have never laid eyes on him, this lord before her. That she would never regret. Either way, she was meant to be damned.

 

His hands stroked her shapely figure; coaxing soft mewls from her rosy, red lips. Kagome felt his razor sharp claws draw a trail across her cheek. She gasped out, never turning from it, for she enjoyed the torment far too much. If pain was all she received from him this day, she would gladly accept. Her hands trailed the length of his chest, lowering to the tight muscles of his abdomen. He let out a grunt of surprise, gripping her wrists tightly, forcing them from their current destination. The young lord held them to his chest, forcing her to look him in the eye. Kagome broke down...

Groaning out she surged forward, whimpering like a wounded animal. Tears poured from her eyes as her bound hands flailed in the tight grip, trying to strike whatever she could. Sesshomaru growled, jerking her roughly and slamming her body against the wall once again, gaining her attention. She was losing control of her sanity. She was lost, completely lost. Kagome felt like her soul had already been taken from her. Why did it have to be her?

“Why say things like that?” She cried softly, resting her forehead against his shoulder as his face buried in the crook of her neck.

He inhaled her scent, nipping the flesh of her neck, murmuring softly as she spoke, “It breaks my heart to think about it.” She muttered against his shoulder, trying to distract herself by placing her hands anywhere she could on his warm frame, “Why did you always deny me... after all these years, my lord?”

Silence...

“I know you listened,” She muttered against his cheek, nipping hard before continuing, “I always wondered what went through your mind when you heard me with your father. How tormenting that must have been?” Kagome felt a faint smile upon her lips, feeling her core heat at the very thought of him behind that thin wall, listening to her come over and over again. Did he touch himself to her image?

“I came because I thought of you inside of me,” She admitted, squeezing her eyes tightly shut, raising a hand to over her mouth. She had never been able to reach completion, which was until she created this illusion of him above her and inside of her.

His massive hand cupped at her breasts once again, plucking at the satin material just around her straining nipple. Her soft peaks instantly hardened upon contact. She gasped softly, leaning in to capture his parted lips. The young lord's eyes narrowed, striking out a hand to close around her thin neck. Her breath hitched in her throat, causing her eyes to darken.

Her lips parted softly, now wishing even more to capture his sweet lips. Kagome groaned loudly, gripping the rough material of his top, trying to pull him toward her. Tears continued to leak from her eyes. The rolling tear drops slipped from her chin, splashing upon her twin mounds. She swallowed hard and kept her lips just inches from Sesshomaru's. He strained, keeping her at a distance, watching her stare at her lips. What was he waiting for? Gods, she could feel his cock straining against his breeches.

Her blue eyes curiously shifted toward her shoulder, allowing the material to slip from delicate shoulder. She glanced up at him seductively, sniffling before tilting her chin up to meet his intense gaze.

“I wish you to look upon me. I want to feel your eyes on me like you have done so many times in the past,” Sesshomaru's fingers came up to brush away her tears, “Undress me, my lord...” Her lips grazed his chin.

…oOoOoOoOo…

The scent of tears attacked his nose and with each tear she shed he was reminded that soon enough, he would lose her. This was but a temporary moment in the eternity that her life would be.

“Why say things like that?” 

How dare she ask him why he would say such things! She knew the reason behind his anger, his spiteful words. His nostrils flared, his eyes protruding. She seduced him, strayed him from his path with her exotic looks, the sway of her body and the fiery of her mind. She obeyed, she followed, she lusted but she was different. Deep inside, he even wondered if the thought of running away crossed her mind. She was stubborn little thing and he often revelled in watching her anger spark.

“I know you listened.” She paused. “I always wondered what went through your mind when you heard me with your father. How tormenting that must have been?”

The fact that she knew he listened in on her and his Father and admitted it, admitted that she thought of him while his Father’s cock was sliding in and out of her wet folds showed her boldness. Did she have any idea what kind of insanity it brought upon him? How ashamed he felt whenever he gripped his pulsing cock while she fucked his Father in the other room? He wanted to punish her for it, make her remember that he was the only one would could provide her with true pleasure. She would bend to him and fall apart in his arms.

“I wish you to look upon me. I want to feel your eyes on me like you have done so many times in the past.” Her tears were calling out to him, he wanted to brush them away. “Undress me, my lord...”

How could he refuse her offer?

His hands glided across the fabric of her dress until he reached her sleeves. “I did not deny you,” he spoke, his head leaning forward so that he could nuzzle the crook of her neck. Her tiny, sneaky hands managed to take a hold of his shoulder, squeezing to keep her hold. She never laid a hand on him before this day and now he almost had to restrain her to keep her off of him. If he let her explore too much, he would slip.

“You were denied to me. Taken by another.”

Chieftain sometimes shared their little prizes – but his Father never shared Kagome. She was his precious little jewel; it was the reason why she was the one to accompany him into the next world.

He began tugging at the fabric, forcing the sleeves down until they hung low on her elbows. Each time her chest rose, he saw more of her breasts, her nipples teasing him, nearly breaking free of their constraints. He shifted his head until he was holding the corset of the dress and pulled down. Her breasts sprung free, offering their sight to him. He watched them many times but he never touched.

Sesshomaru took a quick breath, the muscles in his hands twitching, quivering as he thought of the moment to come. He released the garment and cupped her bare breasts with his hands. The mounds were soft, his fingers sinking into them. His claws prickled the flesh, drawing blood to the surface. He wanted to pleasure her, he wanted to hurt her. Someone had to pay the price for this injustice.

He kneaded her breasts, watching her lips part, her breath hitch in her throat while he dove in the fantasy of her body for the very first time. A claw flickered her nipple and she buckled beneath him. He could smell the spiciness of her arousal, sending him into a daze of lust. He licked his lips and he saw the desire in her eyes. She wanted to be kiss, she wanted his lips dancing against hers. He would not fall this low. Though, he fooled her as he approached his mouth to hers, only to lower it to her breast.

She forced her eyes shut, frustration obvious, and he captured her nipple in his mouth. His fangs nearly broke the skin as he suckled on it. He distracted her enough, watching her squirm, and decided to trail one of his hands up the length of her leg. His fingers teased her knee, rising to her thigh. He squeezed the flesh, pinching it between his fingers and he heard her yelp. Sesshomaru could touch her juices, feel them spilling out of her while he neared his prize, the forbidden treasure that would never be his. He tugged on her nipple and released it from his mouth.

She pushed her chest forward, missing the contact and he smirked. He could barely manage to hide the quivering of his body, the want overwhelming. It took every ounce of control not to rip that dress off of her body, bend her forward and fuck her. Yet, he managed. There was one thing he needed to see; her body, bare to him in all of its glory.

Fuck keeping his control in check.

He decided he did not like the dress; they would find her another one. He yanked at the fabric without a second thought and shredded it. It snapped against her warm skin and he saw her face twist into pain. He let his eyes take in the sight in front of him, holding his breathe. She was always beautiful but now that she was all his, at his mercy, she was even more breathtaking. He could hurt her, he could pleasure her and not a soul could stand in his way.

He saw the desire in her eyes and how soon her hope would be shattered. She thought he would give in, slide inside of her and take her like she was his to own. She thought he would crash his lips upon hers, tasting her mouth, dominating her tongue but he would do none of it. He closed the distance between their bodies, the flushness and closeness making his blood boil. He lapped her at neck, feeling her pulse beneath his tongue. Her sex was pushing into his erection, her nectar staining the cloth.

“What do you desire the most?”

…oOoOoOoOo…

Her womanly figure now exposed to the air, chilling instantly. Her hands brushed over the tips of her naked breasts, holding them tightly to her frame. She looked down, hesitant to meet his eye. The pink material of her gown now lay in ribbons at her feet. It didn't take long, of course, for her body to heat, especially when she lifted her blue gaze to meet those amber coals. Those eyes, oh how she could get lost in those eyes. They were always watching her, stalking her every movement. The front of his pants brushed against the tight curls upon her womanly center, forcing her thighs apart and causing her to stumble back.

Her core was swollen, damp, nearly at the brink of release thanks to his sweet torture. She hadn't felt his tongue upon her in this manner before. The sweeping motions of his tantalizing tongue nearly had her begging for more. His sweet tongue had dipped out, caressing over each tip, savoring it as one did their favorite meal. The slightest of brush had sent ripples of pleasure rolling down the length of her torso, affecting her blooming center.

She didn't have to beg, thank the gods. His tongue had returned to her pulse, no doubt sensing her bodies heightened arousal do to the exquisite pleasure he was rewarding her with. Kagome's blue eyes fluttered, nearly rolling as he began to touch her softly with those deadly claws. Reaching out, her hand brushed across his muscled arm, gripping the material and pulling him tighter to her quivering frame.

Kagome stepped forward, pressing her face to his chest to inhale his sweet scent, allowing it to be engraved in her mind. The young woman couldn't get enough of his presence and it would, therefore, be extremely hard to leave him. Her hand flattened to the arm she had a hold of, sliding her digits toward his chest, moaning softly as his tongue flicked over her pulse, causing her to lean against him for support. Gritting her teeth, she tiled her head back, allowing her black locks to cascade down the length of her naked back to brush to swells of her buttock.

Sesshomaru lifted his head slowly, meeting her stare. He was awaiting an answer. What was it? Oh yes...

“What do you desire most?”

 

Kagome slowly locked her calf around his, pulling delicately before answering him, “For this to be but a dream,” She murmured, arching her rounded hips and grinding her glistening center against the front of his pants, savoring the ripples of pleasure igniting her core.

Her hand found his forearm, softly trailing a path to his palm, taking the clawed weapon in both of her petite hands and watching him intently. Her shapely lips parted ever so slightly before taking two of his clawed fingers between her lips, sucking them, teasing them with her experienced tongue. Would he let her use her tongue on him? She moaned against his digits, closing her eyes to visualize his thick manhood between those lips, reveling in the thought of his of his salty liquid as it touched her tongue. Her desire filled blue eyes opened slowly, meeting his intense gaze once again, allowing his fingers to slip free from her mouth.

“What do you desire most, my lord,” Kagome purred, licking her lips.

...oOoOoOoOo...

He died.

At that moment, he died and joined his Father in the other world.

The sight of his finger in her mouth, the feel of her tongue - it hypnotized him while it wrapped around it, licking, sucking, as though it was his erection pulsing in her mouth. His penis strained against his pants, begging him to replace the finger by something much thicker. If he did not cease her ministrations, he might come undone while he remained still clothed.

He pulled his fingers from her plump lips. They were swollen and red, begging for him to let her taste him. Her eyes ensorcelled him her own lasciviousness, her need throbbing through his body, making his knees wobble. If he did not have her, he might die. Her question rung through his ears and he put his hand to the side of her head. The rough callus of his thumb brushed against her ear, while he caressed her long black locks. He forced her head to the side, yanking it roughly. He put his fangs beneath her earlobe and grazed them all the way to her collarbone, splitting the skin, marking her with his touch.

 

“Your mouth,” he answered, his words but a whisper on her flesh.

He used his hold on her hair to pull her down to her knees. He heard them smack against the flooring but it did not stop him. She laid bare but he remained in all of his clothes. Her hands caressing him through the layers of fabric, except for when she trailed her fingertips along his arm, teasing him. He was dying for the contact of her skin against his, the warmth of her touch. He wanted his body pressed against his, her breasts flattened against his chest.

If he leaned forward ever so slightly, his erection would be near her mouth. It was taunting him, teasing her, to have her so close but feeling nothing more than her breath tickling it through the wool. He tugged on her hair, forcing her head up, making her look into his eyes. He wanted to demand everything from her but she could not give him anything.

She laid there, flawless, filled with fire and upending doom with her life ready to waste away. He wanted to be drunk in the alcohol she would drink later, which would force her to not stray from the path that was chosen for her. He let his hand trail until he held her chin between his fingers, while his claws pressed the flesh without hurting her. The words were burning at his lips. He wished to ask of her to give it all up but he knew he never would. All it would bring her was an honourless death, no life in the next world.

Sesshomaru buckled his hips forward, his erection brushing against her moist, red lips. A growl rumbled through his chest, his lust and torment laced together as the feeling of her lips tugged at his very soul, calling out to something dark, hidden in the depths of him.

“I cannot keep you, little one.”

...oOoOoOoOo...

She groaned ravenously, clutched at his beige pants and pressing her face against the thick member straining against the seam of his breeches. Her mouth opened, nipping at the bulge. Kagome's soft fingers pressed against the roughness of the material, stroking him mercilessly. Her thighs parted, pushing up further to get better access to his flexing hips.

“I understand what must become of my life, my lord. I wish only to be close to you until my time comes,” Kagome whimpered softly, gripping his belt and yanking him closer to her in order to hide her face. She couldn't, she refused to allow herself to get emotional now. She was going to give him what he desired at this moment. She would give into the lusts, which were just moments from overflowing deep inside the both of them. Sucking in a breath her fingers fumbled with the button, gripping at the bronze circle and pulling it free.

His swollen member sprang to full attention, bobbing as it protruded proudly. The reddened tip glistened with pre-come, straining for release. He was painfully hard, and she would deny him not a moment more of torture. Kagome gripped his veined member, stroking up the length, brushing her thumb over the sensitive head of his manhood. Her eyes widened, unable to fathom that this was actually happening. He was finally allowing her to experience him the way she had so desperately wanted for years. Her young lord could not deny it either.

Her lips dropped open, leaning in to place them upon the head of his cock, sucking gently at the glistening substance dribbling from the tip. She arched forward upon hearing his sharp intake of breath. His balls tightened, preparing his hardened member for release. Her fingers tightened their hold upon the girth, stroking him, teasing him. His lips were parted and the look in those glowing amber eyes told her all she needed to know. He wished for her mouth to be around him, and quickly.

Speeding up her tempo upon his shaft, Kagome leaned in dropping her mouth over the mushroom top of his cock, creating a delicious suction in which the young demon lord to stumble forward as the pleasure overwhelmed him. Sesshomaru's clawed fingers dropped to her shoulder, pulling her closer as she rotated her head, which in turn caused her gliding tongue to circle the rim of his cock.

Sesshomaru let out a low moan. He tightened his hold upon her shoulder before trailing his rough fingertips toward her hair, diving that hand into her luscious tendrils. His grip tightened almost painfully. She vibrated a groan against his member, dropping her head upon the thickness of him once again before allowing her mouth to move slowly off of him, pulling back with a 'pop'. Licking the saliva from her glistening lips, Kagome's blue eyes widened as she met his eyes, enjoying the sated look upon his beautiful features.

“I wish to taste your essence, my lord.” She muttered softly, before placing both hands upon him.

The hand lost in her hair rewarded her with a hard jerk, forcing a grunt of pleasure from her lips. She allowed another mewl to escape her rosebud lips as she descended upon his oozing tip, sucking and stroking his length mercilessly. She trailed her own hand down the length of her body, stroking her soft fingertips over her flat stomach, a stomach in which never experienced pregnancy and never would. Her short nails dug against the yielding flesh of her stomach as she bobbed her head against his member, listening to the music of his moans filling her ears. What a lovely sound.

Slipping lower, her finger tips felt for her glistening core. She brushed them over her swollen clit, massaging, rewarding herself with bold flicks of her fingertips with each wanton groan from her Lord's mouth.

“Sesshomaru,” She murmured boldly against the tip of his cock, dipping her tongue out to caress the rim, “I wish to feel you here,” Rubbing in a circle, she applied pressure to her womanhood, letting out a sigh of pleasure. His eyes opened, watching her arm as it moved with each stroke of his cock. Her own hips rotated, pretending that his cock was diving not into her mouth, but her very core. With that, Kagome slipped her fingers into her depths, moaning against his length yet again.

Watching her was too much. He dropped his head back, furrowing his brow as an explosion of heat bled into his abdomen. His hips jerked, feeling salty lubricant pouring from his tip. He was reaching his breaking point. Sesshomaru was panting, and pulling her closer. She felt it. Kagome knew he was only moment from giving her what she wanted. Pulling her wet lips from his reddened tip, she offered him tantalizing strokes. Her breasts arched, pressing fully to his thighs, speaking in a sensual tone as she stroked her own sex.

The young lord barked out a cry, baring his teeth as he released her hair. Instead he gripped her chin and pushed his fingers between her lips to pry her hinged jaw apart. It didn't take much force and within seconds her lips were parted, lapping at his sharp claws, which were quickly replaced by his straining cock. Kagome let out a moan of satisfaction. His hot seed poured from his tip, filling her awaiting mouth. She lapped, savoring his very essence. His cock strained and twitched until fully sated. Hearing him let out a soft breath as his body relaxed, she wiped her soft lips before offering him her eyes.

...oOoOoOoOo...

Out of breathe, he leaned forward until his palms pressed against the wall, unable to hold himself up. He had known women, he fucked many of them but the simple feeling of her mouth wrapped around his cock and he was coming in moments. He dropped his head between his arms, her blue eyes locked on his face still. Her lips plump and bruised from the act she committed, remnants of his release faintly present on her mouth.

He did not miss the way the little vixen pleasured herself while she took care of him. He imagined replacing her finger with his pulsing erection many times but her mouth was enough distracting for him not to disgrace from the path. Now that he was riled up, his blood racing for her, the urges were harder to control. From where he stood he could see her glistening fingers and smell her arousal leaking down her digits.

Sesshomaru was never one to take and not give back. He could not fuck her but he could taste her and delve into the pleasure of her nectar. He could not give her forever, he could not give her his heart, he could not give her a full life with children…but he could give her this. He joined her on the floor, dropping to his knees. Startled, her eyes widened and she searched his face for an answer. It was not what she was begging for since the beginning, but it was what he could allow himself to give without sacrificing his goals, his pride and his honour.

At the simple of thought of shoving his tongue deep inside her core, his cock sprung back to life. He felt himself hardened, the painful need of her filling him again. He approached her, his gaze hardened like she was his prey. A growl rumbled through his chest as he put his hands on her knees, forcing her legs apart. She easily let him, her thighs smacking against the cold floor.

He saw her sway her tongue over her lips, the anticipation making her chest rise rapidly. Pride swell through him and he leaned forward as he hooked his arms around her legs before resting them on his shoulders, giving himself perfect access to his little treasure. He saw her suck in a breath as his eyes never left hers even when he dipped forward.

He pushed his hands against her thighs, sliding his way to her womanhood. His thumb rapidly found her little bundle of nerves and he began making circles, forcing her to throw her head back, the feeling overwhelming. Her legs shook, squeezing together around his head. The scent was dizzying and he closed his eyes as he revelled in it. He bid his time, and instead, inserted one digit inside her wet folds, sliding in easily.

Her muscles clenched around him and she slowly began to thrust back into his finger and he could only imagine how it would feel like to have her thrusting her hips against his while his manhood was deep inside of her. He was lost in the little world of pleasure, her muffled sounds of lust echoing in the background. He wanted her to moan louder, he wanted his name to slip past her lips as he brought her to climax.

When she arched her back, her head nearly colliding with the wall behind her, he gave in. He wrapped his warm lips around her clit, sucking on it softly. Juices were spilling into his mouth as he dared to nibble on it. A scream of pain escaped her but it was laced with need. His fangs grazed at it, making them both shiver in anticipation. The taste of her was filling his mouth, making him hungrier.

Her nectar began dripping down his chin and he knew he had to taste it from the source. He dove his tongue inside of her, feeling her squirm, and he lapped and licked at every drop she had to offer him. He wanted to stroke himself, relieve some of the pressure that was building, his cock aching for her cunt, but his finger was still deep inside of her.

He inched his tongue deeper inside of her, twisting it and at the added sensation, she curled her toes, tangling his tress in them. He raised his glance, watching her breasts rise and spill with each choked breath she took. He forced her to hold his gaze while he plunged inside, circling, forcing all she had to offer in his mouth. Her juices stained his lips, his chin but he could not get enough.

Her thrusts were more violently, pushing his face into her, her legs holding him in place and he knew she was reaching her breaking point. His own cock was throbbing with the need to release his seed again. He added another digit deep within her, hoping to send her over the edge. His tongue found its way back to her clit, nibbling, pulling and sucking. She thrashed in pleasure and he was forced to use one of his hands to keep her still.

As his fingers dove inside of her one more time, he felt it as she squeezed down around his digits, her voice screaming a silent scream. She quivered, a waterfall of sweet nectar landing in his mouth and he drank it up like a thirsty man, enjoying every drop, knowing he would never know this taste again.

Once the waves of pleasures finished washing over, her body steadying, he pulled his fingers outs, smearing her juices over her thigh while he moved his hands to her waist. She dropped her legs to his sides and he laid his hand on her flat stomach, his breath hitched.

The dream was over, reality waiting for them on the other side of the door.

...oOoOoOoOo...

 

Those marvellous hands... those trembling hands were now cupping her quivering thighs. She was breathing heavily, looking directly at the spanning rafters covering the ceiling, which were draped with crimson silk. Placing a hand to her chest, Kagome could feel the thud of her heart. Her blood was cooling after being shoved over the edge. His tongue had done a proper job fucking her senseless. It sated her needy body, especially after getting a proper taste of him.

“Sesshomaru,” She whispered, reaching down to collect a few strands of his silver locks between her fingers. Kagome watched as it sifted through, sliding from her fingers like fine silk, “Thank you,” her soft whisper captured his attention.

He crawled over her, placing his large palms on either side of her head, looking down upon her soft features. His golden eyes skimmed across her blushed cheeks, lifting a hand to cup the side of her lovely face. Her lips parted just as her eyes fluttered closed. She placed her hand over top of his, nuzzling the warmth. Sesshomaru didn't need to speak, that very action told her everything she needed to know. He was thankful too. The son of the great lord was never one for expressive words, which Kagome figured out early on in her relationship with his father.

The sun was already laying its claim upon the land surrounding the massive hall, spanning for miles over the rocky mountains of the terrain to the free flowing waters. Preparations were already being made. It had been, even from the previous nights when the man hovering over her had sat beside a blazing fire, discussing the events of the funeral. Men would be preparing his father's most prized ship; goods would be baked, collected and supplied for the events in just a short time. A massive funeral pyre would be built and added to the very ship in which carried him over the unforgiving sea. His father had much pride in that ship, that ship earned him his wealth. Her life would also end on that ship, yet begin into a new one... Could she stop time for a while longer? Her hands wrapped around the young lord's shoulders, pulling him down into a strong embrace, wrapping her bare thighs around his thin hips.

She pressed her lips to his ear and whispered softly. His ears twitched upon hearing that lovely voice. He sucked in a surprised breath and pulling away to look deep in her eyes. A sad smile formed upon her lips. Tears were already forming in her eyes again, and he refused to allow that to happen. He gripped her back, yanking her up to scold her for saying those words. Was she crazy? She believed so, but for a completely different reason. What would it hurt? It was one of the last times she would be with him.

A knock sounded upon the hard wooden door, rattling the shelves and trinkets layering them. Sesshomaru's features tightened upon being disturbed and with that his lips parted as if he would say something terrible, but her index finger went to her lips, shaking her own head to keep him from doing so. Kagome slipped out from under him and gripped the shredded material of her gown, holding it to her naked form. She smelled of sex. The musk radiated from her very body. She needed to clean up some before her 'proper' bath. Her head lowered giving him s nod of reassurance. He needed to answer the door. Sesshomaru's brows furrowed as anger slowly filled him, not wishing to be torn from their last moments alone.

Standing, Kagome's eyes scanned to door. He had called to whoever it was, and the soft voice replied almost instantly.

“My lord, preparations are coming along just as planned. We would like you to help in the celebration, my lord. The thrall must be prepared as well...um,” They knew she was in there with him, anyone who stood close enough to hear their pants of pleasure had an idea of what was transpiring in his father's room.

“I shall go now,” Kagome whispered, pulling on the fur robe, which was still intact, “Remember my words,” Her soft palm stroked the side of his face, exiting through a hidden passage only a few people were aware of, including her Lord's son.

...oOoOoOoOo...

 

Flutes were played, songs were sung as people began the final preparations of the funeral. Somewhere far away, she was getting bathed, her luscious skin covered in flowers, scent and taste he would never experience. Meanwhile, he had to stand with these fools, inspecting his Father’s new clothes, the ones he would wear when they sent him off to the next life. For the moment, he lied in a temporary grave, covered by crimson fabrics, shielding him from prying eyes until he was ready to face the gateway to eternity.

Everything that laid in front of him was laced with sparkly gold thread on a navy background – the family colors. He was supposed to praise the workmanship but he could not muster the words. He nodded, simply because he had to. They could not move on until the new clothes were approved by him and there was much left to do. He dismissed her with a gesture of the hand, sick of feeling her standing so close to him.

As the seamstress gathered the fabric in her hands, red locks spilling from her bun. He grabbed the silver cup from the dark cherry wooden table and he brought it to his lips, spilling some of its sweet content into his mouth. The only way he would keep his sanity throughout the whole process would be with some alcohol burning down his throat.

He thought that if he obtained a taste of her, he would be free of her hold on his heart. He was wrong – it made it much worse. All he could think about was the feel of her petite hands, the sway of her hips and the taste of her lips. Instead of freeing himself, he locked himself further away into the abyss of darkness that she was. She ate him up, destroying what he was, one word, one touch at a time.

“The horses have completed their run, milord.”

He turned his head, glancing at the short man standing in the doorway. Long black hair spilled over his shoulders while his green eyes remained locked on the ground, never daring to look at him. His fury was legendary and everyone tried to avoid it. There were also the whispers that traveled through the house and though no one could confirm or bring proof, they wondered if there was any truth to the words that were said.

It was time. “Bring me my sword,” he ordered prior to swinging back another gulp, another taste of the liquid courage, before putting his cup back down with a bang.

The man nodded and ran to the other side of the room. He kneeled down on one knee and lifted the sword above his head, presenting it to Sesshomaru. He took it from him before heading outside. Another task, another thing he had to do, something else he had to give away for the happiness of his Father – no matter the cost.

When he first stepped outside, his leather boots sinking into the mud, the sun shone in his eyes, nearly blinding him. The sky was no longer filled with colors; instead the clouds had over taken the horizon, leaving it a dull grey color. How fitting.

He quickly spotted the horses, one dark brown with a caramel mane and the other black as night with its dark mane camouflaged in his pelt, tied to a wooden poll by the house. They were force to run until they were covered in sweat which would make their meat sweeter, better. His task was to kill them, mercifully, before slicing them into pieces so that they could be thrown on the boat with his Father and her; food of the gods for their journey into the next world.

Sesshomaru lifted his sword, the horses remaining completely calm, unaware of their faith to come. He would kill them by getting rid of the part they did not intend on using. In one swoop, he made a clean cut on brown horse’s neck causing the head to hit the ground, blood slouching and pouring out of the wound. Before the other one could panic, he repeated his previous actions.

Life was taken, gifts were given.

The bodies dropped and he crouched over them. He dove his sword effortlessly, hacking away at the meat, completing the ritual. His chest should swell with pride, honoured that he would pay his Father respect. Instead, the only thing that throbbed through him was a complete feeling of emptiness. With each slice, blood covered his flesh, dripping down his chin, staining his clothes. He ignored it, relishing the warmth each drop provided.

Nobody dare to approach him while he hacked away at bones, snatched useless muscles away from the precious meat he was looking for in this mess. His long tress leaned over his shoulder, dipping into the corpse, coloring the tip crimson. The stench of death would cling to him for days – he wanted it that way. He wanted the reminder.

Once most of the bones were nothing more than pile by his side and the muscles were tossed aside, he lifted his hands, staring at his bloody palms. Killing, war, it always brought him joy. This time, his body was an empty shell - not even anger found a place to swirl within him. His ears were buzzing with memories of quiet whispers and nothing came in to fill the void left by them. Instead, he stared at the half-cut bodies while his amber orbs stayed blank.

For the first time in his life, all this, all the traditions, rules he lived by – they were pointless.

...oOoOoOoOo...

Kagome tilted her head back to place another slice of meat between her lips, grinning as the sweet juices dripped down her chin. Placing her hands against her lips to swipe it away she searched for her horn which had in it the best wine. She brought it to her red stained lips, closing her eyes as the liquor burned a path down her throat.

Steam rose around her soaking form. Her hazy blue eyes strained as she slipped her fingers into the clear water to trace her fingertips over the delicate flower petals surrounding her nude form. Leaning back to bask in the warmth of the water, Kagome studied the length of her cleansed frame. The smell of sex no longer lingered, it was as if she was being reborn in the water, untainted by her deep desires. Her head lulled as the wine surged through her body, coursing through her veins like a disease. She always enjoyed the warmth the hall's alcohol had provided her.

It always loosened her tenseness, prepared her for what would happen in her lord's bed when the sun disappeared beneath the horizon. Alcohol had always been present when she allowed him to mercilessly ride her body until he was stated. She grinned, thinking back on all those memories and not once did she ever believe she would arrive here. Her small fingers trailed a delicate path along the rim of her horn, dipping her fingers into the wine, coating those soft digits. Kagome placed them against her lips, slipping out her tongue to capture the droplets completely unaware some of the crimson droplets were dribbling down her chin.

A soft hum came from the sleeping chambers. Another slave approached the wooden tub bringing more delectable treats and cloths for drying. Kagome stood abruptly, wringing out her hair and then, without a care, she used her stained fingers to slip them through her locks as one did a brush. The woman paused and swallowed allowing a look of discomfort to wash over her young features, gliding a curious gaze in the direction of the pleasure slave's nude form before speaking.

“My lady, we have your dress. Are...are you prepared to get out?” The young girl's brown eyes met the drunken stare of the nude woman.

“I suppose, but I do believe I am out of this,” Kagome reached over the opposite side of the tub, giving the young girl a view of her bare backside as she fumbled for the pitcher, which once was filled to the brim with the red wine. Standing to full height, the black haired slave tilted the iron pitcher upside down, allowing what little liquid was left to dibble into the once clear liquid. Kagome's blue eyes lowered, watching the red droplets bled into the untainted water.

Blood...

Her breath hitched in her throat, instantly bringing a hand to her slender neck and pursing her lips. Her blue eyes shifted to meet the surprised brown eyes watching her with complete and utter confusion, not to mention she was uncomfortable seeing her in this manner, “Fetch me more,” stepping out of the scented bath, her hands descended to the clean towels, wrapping them around her body snuggly.

The slave who had interrupted her bath, bowed respectively and rushed from the room, to retrieve the hall mistress. Kagome sneered, not fearing that old wench any longer. That young girl could tell her whatever she pleased; there was nothing she could do now. She took small steps toward the window, pushing it open just enough to get a glimpse of the overcast sky. Grey flooded in from the rippling sea. Was it an omen?

Holding her head high, Kagome closed her eyes allowing the soft breeze to brush over her face. She was lightheaded. Lightheaded from the temperature of the water as well as the massive amount of liquor she had been ingesting. She needed more; she needed to feel numb, for god sakes. Her heart wouldn't be able to withstand her final moments. She had to drink more.

A flute...

Kagome turned, humming to the sound of the instruments playing near the docks. Her young lord would surely be playing a major role in the preparations. He would be dressed in his finest clothing with beads of gold and silver draped across his armored body, and upon his hands would be his finest jewels, as well as around that strong neck. He would be a fine lord. He would find a lovely wife and produce fine sons. Biting her lower lip she gripped the horn tighter, which at the moment barely housed enough alcohol to extinguish the burning pain in her chest. Sitting upon a stool she waited, continuing her tune until the loathsome hall mistress came in with her silken gown and jewels.

“Get up girl, you must prepare yourself,” Leaning in, the wench snatched the empty horn from her hand, “You may have more once you are dressed.”

Kagome grinned almost hatefully, pursing her rosy lips, “You always hated me. I never understood until I saw your wandering eyes.” she grinned. This wench before her had always had eyes for the deceased Lord, wishing his attention would sway from the younger of the two, but it hasn’t. Her mean tendencies were fueled by jealousy.

“That is enough,” The older woman shifted a distasteful glare in her direction, reaching for the towel in which Kagome had yet to drop. The woman gripped the material tightly and ripped it from her body. Standing abruptly, the black haired slave ripped the gown from the lady's arms. She would dress on her own accord.

“Do not give me trouble,” The older woman seethed.

“Are you to die today?” Kagome snapped, and then there was silence, “I didn't think so, get me more wine and I will dress myself. Today I give the orders.” She raised her voice, pointing to the door. Tears of anger filled her eyes as the woman slowly backed away, agreeing to her terms. She had a point. It was her final hours, who could argue with that?

More wine was brought. More food was introduced. Her thoughts became more and more blurred. Incoherently, the doomed slave raised her horn of wine to the heavens, singing to gods as women piled into the room trying desperately to keep the wine in her horn and off of her attire. Golden rings were slipped upon her fingers, a necklace of rubies placed around her slender neck. Flowers were adorned in her black hair. She was dressed to die. Kagome's lips parted, as a sad smiled graced her lips.

“Do I look pretty enough for death?” Her morbid humor offset the mood. Grinning ridiculously, the woman stood observing herself in the mirror. Kagome was, indeed, lovely.

“Kagome, come my child...” Spoke a lady draped in a black gown. A sheer black veil covered her darkened features as she reached out a painted arm. It was too soon; surely she wasn’t ready for her yet? She wasn’t supposed to be here.

The angel of death....

...oOoOoOoOo...

A fine rain was drizzling upon the land, a darkness lurking in the sky. The closer they were to the end of the ritual, the worse the weather became. The Gods should favour such a day, such a fallen hero and yet, the sea promised to be unforgiving as the waves splashed high, drowning in the shore and rising high into the sky. A life should not be taken under such an ominous time. 

Yet, nothing could be delayed. The ritual had to happen according to the constraints or his Father might never be able to travel into the other world. And she would be stuck in limbo as well, forever damned.

His hands remained bloody since had accomplished the last sacrifice; a hen and a cock. The two animals were set to represent the thrall and his Father. Sacrificing their lives, joined together by eternity. He broke their necks, nearly ripping their heads apart because of the sheer amount of force he used. His body felt out of his control with every movement, every step he took.

From where he stood, up on the small hill, the wind blew through his clothes, sending his tress flying into the air and he could see them as they pulled his Father’s long ship ashore. Time for the cremation was upon them and the men hurried to pull the ship upon a wooden platform. Soon, Sesshomaru would lite it on fire, destroying what was left of his Father, and her bloody body. He would watch as it sailed away, the flames burning into the horizon.

For a brief moment, he swore he stopped breathing.

“My lord, we will begin preparing your father’s final bed and bring his weapons at once.”

“Very well.”

They expected him to join in, ensure the respect of his Father’s body. He would have to because he should not be concerned with anything else. Especially not a thrall girl. She was a foreigner, good for sex and slave duty. They were never meant to be anything more than that. She was not supposed to occupy his mind and take hold of his every thought.

“Death cannot be prevented.”

He knew that voice very well; he heard her speak many times; each time one of their own passed away and had to be guided to the other side. She was here for the sacrifice; the angel of death. She was an old woman, perhaps one of the oldest in their village and allies. She always wore black, remaining hidden in the shadows until her skills were needed. Most of the time, she pulled her long grey hair back into bun, hiding it in the black hood of her dress.

Wrinkles covered her face while the skin of her body was marked, painted with the old tales, the rituals and the power that she was entrusted with many cold winters ago. Many said she was immortal, always lurking, the only one who could ever bear the task of death. He did not know if those words were true but he saw her as a child when his mother passed on and to this day… the woman… she looked the same as she did the first time he laid eyes on her.

“I have no death to prevent.”

The corner of her lips tugged into a smirk. “Do not take me for a fool, child. My eyes see everything, my ears know everything.”

“Do not insinuate facts you know nothing of, old woman.” Her use of the word child was disrespectful. She might be the angel of death but for the time being he was her new chieftain and she should treat him as such.

She brushed aside his insult as though it meant nothing to her. “Do you believe yourself to be different?”

He raised an eyebrow, a frown threatening to form on his face. “Explain yourself.”

She chortled. “You will take one as well. A wife and then a girl. Perhaps her heart will belong to another, but you will have her.”

A chieftain had one lady and many girls. He would be no different, why would he be? He would take and ravage as many as he wished and it would only make him look more powerful, stronger and respected. Before his Father’s death, he thought about marrying, he even thought of the children he would have. His visions of the future shifted since his passing. She was in all of his thoughts, filling in the blank face that was always by his side in his dreams.

He knew how his Father favoured her. He went to others, he pleased himself with whomever he saw fit, but he was very protective of Kagome. He did not share her, he did not let anyone taste her. She was his private little secret, the one he always went back to and never tossed aside.

Sesshomaru knew a slave had to die to accompany his Father, but deep inside part of him wished it would not be her. Perhaps others did not notice that she was his favourite, perhaps they would foolishly kill another. He was to inherit his Father’s possessions – that would have included her. Yet, reality was not so kind.

“She will be happy.”

Of course – they would intoxicate her. Alcohol would flow to the brim until she could no longer drink and the toxicity of the drinks would send her into an ecstasy of the mind and senses. She would die on a high, ready for the next challenge that laid in front of her. He would be but a passing thought in her mind as she would stand in front of his Father’s body.

His hand clenched into a fist, his claws digging into the palm of his hand. He felt the blood spill, the warm liquid leaking down his digits. It dropped down to the ground, staining the earth with his rage, his blood. He wanted a storm to blow, to take away everything and leave nothing behind. A selfishness lurked inside of him, threatening to shatter all that he held high in belief.

Words were stuck in his throat, begging to come out but he locked them away.

“Death is a gift,” he heard her voice whisper in his ear, her dark veil brushing against the side of his face, pushed in his way by the powerful winds.

Death was not a gift. Death was taking and leaving nothing behind. Death was wasting lives that were meant to be cherished. Death was selfish and cruel. He was selfish. He was cruel. It was not enough to hold titles and power – he wanted it all for himself.

He wanted to be as selfish, controlling and merciless as death. Then perhaps he would find solace in the storm raging within his aching chest.

...oOoOoOoOo...

Vomit spewed from her lips, splashing upon the stone pathway in which led her to the docks. Her blue eyes watered as another pain rippled across her stomach, forcing the liquor to expel itself from her churning belly. Placing a trembling hand to her tightening abdominal muscles, Kagome lifted her head, wiping the strand of saliva from her quivering lower lip. She stood to full height, stumbling only a little. Sucking in a quick breath, she grinned as if happy and held out her small hand.

The ladies directing her down the pathway, offered her the horn her hand was currently searching for, helping her close her tiny fingers around the handle. Taking a step forward, she stumbled once again upon a rock, giggling like a ridiculous child. Biting her lower lip she leaned back, allowing the wind to catch in her black locks. Tiny fragments of petal blew from her free flowing strands, but she hardly noticed, instead she began to sing. It was her favorite song as a child. Her mother used to sing it to her as she lay in bed waiting for sleep to claim her, and it had always stuck with her. It had always being the most positive memory in her young life.

Tears watered in her eyes as the unforgiving wind blew mercilessly against her pale face, with that she sped up her pace. Humming to herself, Kagome began spinning in place, moving her arms in a free flowing manner. She was dancing, why not? The ladies kept to her side, keeping her steady. Her arms flailed, splashing red pools of wine everywhere she stepped.

“My lady, you don't wish to waste such a good wine, right?” A woman placed her lips to her cheek, gripping her arms to cease her rough movements. Kagome opened her eyes fully, glancing to the sky.

“I don't care,” She smiled ever so softly before allowing it to vanish from her lips. Her eyes fell upon the docks where all gathered to watch her die.

She was numb. She had been for hours or so it seemed. Kagome slowly began to step forward, stumbling every couple steps as she drew closer to the docks. A pathway had already parted for her. Bringing the horn to her lips, she sucked down the rest of the wine in her horn, tossing the item over her shoulder. She knew she no longer needed it where she was going.

Kagome paused directly before the people, allowing her hazy eyes to slide over each sullen face. Under her breath, the young woman had been singing the soft tune the entire way, but as she looked upon the people her singing grew louder, more vibrant. She smiled softly as two of her Lord's armed guards approached her, bowing in respect to her. Kagome reached out her slim arms, allowing both to cup her hands. She looked them over; both wore the Chieftain's colors. Their beards had been freshly braided and adorned with bronze beads. They were prepared to help their lord, as well as she, to enter the afterlife. Sucking in a breath she leaned in, pulling each one of them in to place a soft kiss upon their cheek.

Both men gripped her upper arm, helping her through the parting crowd. She continued to sing. Her eyes kept to the cobble stone beneath her flats. Kagome, for the first time in hours, felt the twinge of fear capture her heart. She didn't want to look at his face. If she looked at him she would lose it, for the fear of being parted from him hurt her more than the thought of dying. Where was he?

Please don’t come forward, my lord…I beg you…

“Look, Kagome, it is your Lord,” A raspy voice sounded in her ear, tickling the flesh of her earlobe with his whiskers. Her breath hitched.

Her blue eyes lifted, and for the first time she was looking upon her lord's favored ship. The sails were released and flowing with each caress of the wind. Her eyes were captivated by the vibrant colors stitched into each sail. A funeral pyre had been centered, as well as layered with goods for them both to share in the afterlife. Each item lined the ship's deck with care.

Kagome's curious eyes lowered to the pyre, to view the form laying cold as ice upon the wooden logs. His long silver hair lay upon his chest, brushed and adorned with beads. He was a sight to behold, even in death. His arms crossed over his chest as if fast asleep. A cry escaped her lips, catching it the moment it seeped free. Placing a shaky hand to her lips, the woman bit her tongue and forced herself to focus. Closing her teary eyes once again to reset her stirred mind, she willed them open to look upon the black form shifting upon the creaking dock.

Kagome began to sing loudly again, stepping quick to the stairs, which would lead her to the docks. Upon the docks was the Angel of Death. She was ready to receive her.

...oOoOoOoOo...

 

The stench of sickness was the first scent to assault his nose, the first cue he had that the painful, agonizing funeral process was beginning. If he could have, he would have remained away, hidden from prying eyes, staying on top of the hill where he had been earlier. Obviously it was not a luxury he could afford; people would notice his missing presence and questions would be asked. He had to stand in the crowd and watched her parade like it was the greatest festivity the town had ever seen.

Eventually, he would have to be in the front row. They would all need to be able to see him as he would bid farewell to his Father, watch her die, and lite it all on fire. For now, he opted for a more discreet appearance. He was blending into the middle of the crowd, and if it were not for his silver hair shining brightly while he out heighted most, his camouflage would be perfect.

He needed to keep a distance between her and himself; if he did not, he might reach out, he might halt her. It was not a risk he could afford. The thought of her lips was enough torture on its own. He always stood so tall, so straight, but now, his shoulders were drooping, his posture stooped. His stare was empty and distant as he glanced at the horizon, waiting for her to make her appearance.

In the wind, he could hear a small murmur, her voice whispering words he could not quite make out. The scent of wine was overflowing the area and his heart ceased to beat while he waited to see her, waited for her to walk one last time before she forfeited her life. His expression was slacked, eyes dull and a hint of wet while he finally heard the footsteps echoing in his ears.

He saw her, beautiful, hair in the wind, caressing her gentle face while two men were holding her up. Her feet were barely grazing the stones beneath her, her drunken haze to strong for her to maintain proper appearance – not that she was expected to, of course. The point of the ritual was to intoxicate her as much as possible, allowing her to see past this realm and into the next. That did come with some side effects.

He noticed as she threw the horn over her shoulder, wine spilling upon the road along with the back of her dress. He sucked in a breath, hypnotized by the smile on her lips. He did not want her happy, he wanted her miserable. A sickness was spreading through his guts, his heart heavy and his lungs unable to hold air. And she was smiling. Her red lips stretched to the max, her mouth moving as she kept mouthing those words over and over again, louder and louder each time.

Then there she was, being dragged past him, her eyes never looking at the crowd, never searching for his amber eyes. He grinded his clenched teeth, while an uncontrollable body tremor took hold of him. He wanted her to look at him, only him, one last time. He wanted to see that despite the beautiful smile that adorned her lips, she was broken inside. A need for control began emerging inside of him and he could barely keep the lid on it.

Then, everything came crashing. He saw her lips on their cheeks as she kissed those useless men, giving them a gift he worked so hard to obtain. It meant nothing, he meant nothing – she was giving it away.

The flutes, her voice – they were nothing more than deaf silence to him. His eyes bleed red, his blood raced, screaming for a need, for a pleasure he could not have. Then, as he thought his heart could not be ripped apart any more, he saw it. Her eyes changed. She glanced upon his Father’s dead body and something in her eyes shifted –they were glistening. Was she sad? She was his. She was going to be his forever. Why not be sad?

But he did not want her to – he did not want to see her shed a single tears upon her porcelain skin. He wanted her rosy cheeks, colored by the wine, to stay dry. His Father did not deserve her tears. She shed tears for him and him alone. He kissed her tears away, he brushed her face while she came undone in his arms; they were his gifts, his lonesome memories. The saltiness of them lingered on his lips and he was sure that if dared to lick his lips, the taste would flood his mouth.

No, her tears were his to see, his to have. Not his Father’s.

If he could not look into her eyes one last time, then she could not let a single tear roll down her cheek.

Then, his worst nightmare materialized in front of his eyes; she had reached the end of the path. The angel of death was calmly waiting for her and it meant only one thing; Sesshomaru could no longer hide in the depths of the crowd. He could not shield his broken façade from her beautiful piercing blue eyes. He needed to stand forth and celebrate as he watched her die.

He began pushing bodies, his own numb to any kind of sensation. His heartbeat thumped in his ears, as sensations, silky touches, and gentle brushes were lost to him. He made his way to the front, everyone retracting to let him take his rightful place. In a moment, he would be close to her, in a moment, her hair would probably tangled in his face and he would have to remain stoic as though unaffected by it all.

She would not stop singing, she would not stop replacing her last words to him with the words of her song. His belly knotted and the dullness in his chest became painful while she arrived on the docks.

Death was awaiting her while his pride was threatening to shatter.

...oOoOoOoOo...

Cold black eyes searched the slave’s tiny frame from beneath that intimidating black veil, covering her sharp features. Kagome's concentrated eyes slid down as a painted arm extended from under the heap of cloth. Hesitantly, she took the black clawed hand, in which had been offered to her. She had come to her earlier that day. Taking her away from all the madness, she called life. A prayer of safe travels had been specifically given to her. She chanted over her head, blowing smoke over her body and blessing her feet, willing her to travel the right path to Valhalla. After finishing the minor ceremony, the Angel of Death spoke in a calm voice, completely opposite of her fierce outward appearance, and soothed her worried conscience.

“I know what weighs heavy on your heart, and truth be told, you aren't the only one,” She croaked.

“I just want him to be happy,” Kagome had whispered in a meek voice.

 

“Oh, he is a creature like no other. He will never be fully satisfied, but his future is filled with successful conquests and many sons. He will be successful with everything he tries to accomplish and with that, allow your mind to be cleared and that your path leads you to the afterlife. His path is not one with repeated pain, my child.” A blackened claw brushed her chin, forcing her calm eyes to meet hers beneath the veil. Her words had made her happy.

 

“I am glad...”

 

Thunder rumbled across the sky, followed by a few brilliant strikes of lightening. Kagome lifted her chin searching the heavens for a sign, a sign her Lord was waiting for her. Another rumble of thunder echoed across the vast sea, which forced its angry waves against the rocky shoreline.

“People of Drengskapr land, today is a happy day in which we reunite this slave with her Lord and master. Together they will travel to Valhalla.” Her voice rasped loudly, opening her palms once to emphasize her words.

After finishing the, Angel of Death gripped the slave's forearm, leading her closer to the boat in which a platform had been placed specifically for this event. Kagome stumbled toward the slightly raised plank and stepped up. Taking one step closer to the alter where incense burned, she inhaled deeply as smoke wafted against her porcelain cheeks, filling her nostrils. A soft flame burned brilliantly within a lantern that held its delicate flicker protectively. Her eyes scanned the draped alter, which the sight of an odd shaped bowl caught her attention immediately. Beside this bronze bowl was a blackened dagger, sharpened and glittering as the soft hue of fire light caught its gleaming edge.

The Angel of Death raised her hands to the heavens, speaking in rapid hymens no one could catch. Her eyes almost rolled into the back of her head as she allowed her chin to drop back, inhaling a soft breath before turning to face the inebriated slave girl, now leaning against the alter.

“Come forth Warriors, of your former lord, show your new Chieftain, son of Inutaisho, what he will be graced with upon experiencing the gift of death. Valhalla will welcome this brave male with open arms and he shall drink and rejoice for all eternity.” She shouted at the top of her lungs.

The warriors who had tended to the Chieftain and followed their brother into battle began rapping upon their shields with the massive swords, shouting to the gods, willing them to hear their thunder. They stepped up upon the dock, thudding their bronze shields with all their might, proving their worthiness to be a part of such a 'joyous' even.

“Who shall depart with their master?” The Angel of Death glanced over her shoulder, slipping her hand into her deathly, black robe.

Kagome felt the men behind her, ceasing their drumming. They stood proudly with their eyes to the sky. Her glistening orbs fluttered open, slowly turning to face the awaiting crowd. The silence was eerie, nearly wishing she hadn't allowed this to continue, but there was no turning back. With her head held high the dark haired slave allowed her arms to drop to her sides as she responded, almost unsure, to the one who beckoned her presence.

“I shall,” She muttered softly.

“And go you shall, to your master and in Valhalla you both shall enjoy each other's company. We shall proceed.” The black figure stuffed the end of the pipe with blackened tobacco. She wrapped her robe around the end of the wooden pipe, almost bat-like, and puffed till it was lit. Smoke rose from her shrouded figure. Once she was sure it was lit, the Angel of Death stepped up upon the platform and offering it to the slave, willing her to smoke from the brilliantly burning embers.

Placing her lips to the tip of the pipe, Kagome puffed. Smoke traveled down her throat and bled into her lungs. Holding it in to receive the full effect, she finally allowed her burning lungs release. A cascade of white smoke escaped her red stained lips, creating a cloud around their still forms. Within seconds instruments sounded. The thudding of drums rattled her ears. Her eyes grew heavy and her limbs felt like jelly. Those who her lord most trusted were now surrounding her, capturing those tingly limbs and lifting her high into the air.

Tilting her head to the side, her lips parted and those lidded blue eyes and met a pair of golden orbs, which were filled with such intensity. She offered a soft smile.

...oOoOoOoOo...

His predatory gaze lingered upon her form, always waiting for a glimpse, a sliver of her attention but each time he was disappointed. He was far in her mind, away from her heart and away from her body. Instead, he was forced to listen to the cheering of the crowd, the spilling of the beer and watch the spectacle taking place in front of his eyes. A few times, he could have sworn he saw the Angel of Death staring at him, warning him, but it happened awfully quickly and it might have been an illusion, a figment of his imagination.

The smoke clouded his vision for a while and he was almost thankful. Although, once he no longer focused on the sight in front of him, it allowed him to hear the whispers surrounding him and none of them were pleasing to the ears. He tried to shut it off, pretend they were not there, but all the words forced their way into his head.

“Sure is pretty. No wonder she was the favourite.”

“Shame he didn’t share that one.”

He felt his hands turn into fists, his control leaning over the edge. Hints of green, sizzling poison dripped from the tip of his claws, burning holes into the ground as they dripped. However, he never raised his hand. He let the rage flow out of him through his poison. He drew in long breaths, his chest rising high, and then he would exhale just as slowly. One at a time. She was not his to have or defend and he could not protect her honour. She was up there, under everyone’s eyes because she was his Father’s favourite whore. What could he say that would not make him look like a fool?

Thunder rumbled the earth and then, she spoke. He heard her words, he heard how happy they were supposed to be but he never managed to muster a smile on his face. The others did; they grinned like drunken idiots, their hands waving in the air as they cheered for his lost Father. He could see him well from where he stood – he did have a front row seat.

He was there, dead, laying upon a wooden bed, surrounded by all of the riches he managed to gather during his rather long life. His Father was the one who always taught him to be strong, to protect and to hold honour above all. You protected your family and your clan. Blood was the strongest link of them all. He drilled those words into his head from the moment he was born and he never let Sesshomaru forget them.

Now, he laid dead, nothing more than a corpse with a soul ready for the next world while Sesshomaru thought of his whore’s lips upon him, her voice whispering in his ear. He touched her, he broke the first rule and instead of having guilt swelling inside of him, he thought of doing it again, of snatching her from that stage she was placed upon and running away.

His feet would never listen to the command, his brain too drilled to listen, to be who he was always supposed to be but his heart was leaping at the thought of the thrill. His mind made up a fantasy, a world where he was free from these shackles, where she was not a thrall. They had a home, children with dark hair and light eyes. Many sons. But they would have none of that because in mere moments, the dagger that shone in the light would take her life from her.

He heard her scream his name and he slightly bowed, as though he was grateful, privileged to be their next leader. He did not want any of it. He would toss it aside like a dirty rag.

Warriors screams, slamming their swords, their shields into the ground to prove how much they loved his departed Father – they had to show their loyalty, show they would die for their Chieftain so that Sesshomaru might let them keep the same honours they currently held. It did not matter; he did not care how they would have given their life for his Father. He wanted to know if they would sacrifice themselves for him. He was tired of being the replacement, of being second.

They were awfully loud, almost enough to make him miss the fatal question. “Who shall depart with their master?”

And for a moment, she never spoke.

The world froze around him and he thought what he feared might happen was currently taking place. He wanted to frown, chastised her for ruining the ritual, for allowing his Father to go to the other world alone but at the same time, his heart raced at the thought of her giving it all up for him. It would serve no purpose since they would kill her nonetheless, she would never be fast enough to escape but the thought was comforting.

And he clung to the hope for a brief second.

But then she shattered it with her voice. “I shall.”

Two words and it was all over.

His eyes were unfocused as a pipe was brought to her lips, pink smoke surrounding her body, given her the sight of a goddess. Her body became limp and he could see in her features that her lungs were burning but she never stopped. They all put their dirty hands on her, claiming what was not theirs to claim and he snarled into the empty air. The jealousy was hard to keep locked away. He should be the one wrapping his clawed fingers around her delicious, soft thighs, lifting her into the air.

Sesshomaru was going to tear his eyes away when the unexpected happen. For the first time since the damn ritual began, he saw her eyes, their beautiful blue color shining and this time, they were looking at him. Then there was that smile, the one he did not want to see, the one he wanted to rip from her face and yet, he never broke the gaze.

All he could do was resist the urge that was tugging at the corner of his lips.

 

...oOoOoOoOo...

Time stood still. Her heart beat pounded like the beating upon a drum in her ears. Closing her eyes her lips parted, allowing her body to glide into the air. Not once, but three times. She floated like a feather in the wind. The men forced her lifeless form through the air, keeping a strong hold on her arms and legs as the smoke took full effect, calming her.

What do you see, Child?

 

“I see...”

Golden eyes flashed across her mind, and her heart fluttered.

“I see,”

Silver strands brushed over her face, forcing her to peal her eyelids from her fluttering eyes. Was it a dream? Could she wake up?

“It is him,” Kagome spoke.

Him, is it your Lord?

 

“No,” She slurred, feeling herself rise high in the air as the muscled men forced her body to the heavens once again. Her stomach fluttered. She released a pained groan, as her arms dropped at her sides, dangling toward the ground below her floating body. Their hands tightened on her, moving her closer to the alter.

Her childhood flashed before her eyes in a series of pictures. Laughing children played around her, offering her flowers and favors before quickly disappearing into the brilliant light ahead. Her mother's beautiful smile came to mind, causing her mouth to twitch. Love, she felt her love. She turned away from sight, being replaced by a towering figure. A clawed hand reached out, calling her by name.

“My lord,” She whispered softly.

Tell us what you see...please...

 

Her eyes quickly opened once again, feeling her breathing speed up. Someone was watching her, who was watching her. She felt apprehensive, but she looked to the sky. Glancing to the heavens, Kagome gasped finding her blue eyes meeting the black stare of a raven hovering overhead. Their gods were watching; they were present. They were here to guild her. The glossy, black bird screeched, echoing its shrill tune across the land to make its presence known.

“I see our creator, our ruler...”

Good...

The Angel of Death’s voice hissed. Deep within her something welled, forced her body to tremble and fight. A blood curling howl ruptured from deep within her stomach, radiating out and filling her with intense pain. Liquid poured from her mouth, forcing her to gasp and cough. She clawed, and gurgled, trying to find her voice, yet there was no hope. Her voice was forever damaged.

…

.

...

The Angel of Death looked down upon the woman lying upon the alter and gripped the bloodied dagger in her hand. Her dark eyes glittered, taking a look at the deep shade of red, dripping from the end of the dagger. Taking a clawed finger, she traced it over the blade's edge and applied it to her cheeks, which were hidden below her trade- mark veil.

The old woman's black eyes lowered, watching as the slave writhed and clutched at her neck trying desperately to keep herself from bleeding out. Her mouth opened and closed, trying to find air. Her legs began to thrash as she fought it. The men gripped her arms, pulling them to her sides, keeping her in place as another gripped the bronze bowl and forced her neck over the rim to allow for the blood to ripple out and collect for the next part of the ritual. Kagome's blue eyes rolled as she gagged once last time, forcing bright red blood from her opened mouth. Her chest ceased to move and her heart beat its last strong pump. The sacrifice was complete...

The silence almost dragged on forever. Soft cries could be heard amongst the group of thralls standing near the stables. The Angel of Death took the pipe, puffing upon it and blowing a trail of white smoke to the heavens. Her black eyes watched the skies, spotting the very same raven from just moments ago. It released one final cry before disappearing over the towering mountains.

“They shall now be together, forever in Valhalla.” The Angel of Death said, glancing up to survey the quiet crowd.

All heads were bowed in respects for the recently deceased. Her lifeless body was lifted by one of the Warrior and placed beside the king. He, thankful, placed her in a position fit for a queen, closing those lifeless eyes. He spoke a soft prayer under his breath before shifting his sad eyes toward the deceased Chieftain's son. He gripped a torch and extended it.

“My Lord,” He spoke sternly, dropping to his knee, offering up the torch.

…oOoOoOoOo...

 

No.

He felt the flutter of her heart when she answered, the desperation in her voice and the illusion shattering around her. She said she did not see the lord, but she cried out for him. His mind wished for him to believe she spoke about his Father but – but it was as though she was crying out. For help? For salvation? Whatever the reason behind her cry, he never answered it.

Sesshomaru stood there, helpless, his hand driving forward, wanting to grasp at her one last time in the hopes of shielding her into his arms. He could not save her from this. He thought he had more time, he thought he might have a chance to look away but he did not. He barely had a chance to blink that the sound of metal cutting flesh rang through the crowd. His eyes widened as blood spilled, staining her perfect skin. Panic ran through her eyes and traveled through him. She gasped, desperate to close the fatal wound that would cost Kagome her very life. And he was there, reality finally dawning upon him.

He did not stop it.

It was too late.

The blood poured, the cooper scent surrounding her, drowning her sweet, divine scent. The smile he hated disappeared from her lips, and he wished he could have it back.

He let her die.

Running away was no longer an option, happiness had vanished from the horizon. The little illusion where they lived in a house, far from the world, her stomach heavy with his seed – shattered. He let it die.

She gagged in front of him, blood splattering from her mouth, matching the color of her lips. Suddenly, he was unable to fill his lungs completely. His throat was dry, sweat was dripping down his back and his legs were numbed. He could not even run to her side, hold her as she died. Instead, she remained a prop. They used her body for the ritual and now her blood. They would use all of her, drain her of everything she had until she had nothing more to give. He saw the cooper cup gathered her blood, stealing away all that she was.

He listened – shutting the world out – while her last heartbeat resonated in her chest.

She was gone.

The thrall, the whore, the slave, his Father’s favorite… Kagome was dead.

His mind became fuzziness, his chin trembling while he held everything inside the only way he knew how. For the first time in his life, he felt the lines of his mask crack, a storm raging inside, waiting to break free. His chest hitched with his breaths, his hands shook, the color draining from his face slowly. The world ceased to spin and everything slowly died, rotting away.

He heard them speak but he did not understand a word they said. His trance only broke when he noticed her body, which now rested beside his Father. She was his queen of the next world. Her blood stained the perfect clothes they forced him to pick. What a waste of his time. They gave the sight of happy lovers who could not bear to be separated.

Then, a flame was shoved in his face and he bore his fangs at the idiot who dared to block his view.

“My lord.”

He was offering him the torch, giving him the greatest honor; burning their bodies so that their souls might be free to leave and be in peace. He wanted to say no, he wanted to toss the fire at the crowd and watch them all burn alive – but his face never betrayed his thoughts. He even fooled them into thinking his hand was steady as he snatched it away.

Sesshomaru took one step forward, his right foot landing in a pool of her blood. It splashed, staining the brown leather of his boots forever, leaving a scent he would never be able to scrub off. Each time he moved forward, loudness followed him. They were all bowing, respectful, quiet and he forced himself to break the silence to the best of his ability.

Far too quickly, he reached the boat. The previous sight was enough to twist his guts but now it went deeper into the darkness, teasing him, torturing him because the sights, the memories burned into his mind were not enough. He needed more hate, more pain. Torment no longer distorting her face; her concern was gone. Since he laid eyes on her that morning, it was the first time she appeared peaceful.

The crimson liquid was drying, leaving the wound wide open, flesh gaping, the sight of bon slightly visible.

“My lord, it is time.”

He knew that voice that urged him, it was her, her who said he would be like his Father, that he would love, marry and father many children and in turn steal someone’s lover.

“Now.”

He felt the brush of her elbow as she pushed him forward and he nearly dipped into the boat with them. He was soft, his body unable to hold his own weight. His heart was heavy, dragging him down. Each heartbeat strained against his ribs, crushing his lungs, cutting his air supply. His own arm refused to listen to him until finally, it dropped by his side.

The motion lite the boat slowly. The crowd screamed. The flames were small at first, kindles of red and yellow mixing together, creating a black smoke. He saw a foot, a black boot, it kicked the boat, letting it float away. People were raising their drinks into the air, their contents spilling upon the ground while they cheered for their souls and their safe travels.

He was motionless, his back facing them until she gripped him. “And now, to honor those we’ve lost and to bring prosperity to the new chieftain.” She turned him around and he let her. The pain in his chest was unbearable and he wanted to claw at his heart; what a useless organ. He focused his eyes, blinking away any wetness that might try to betray him.

He was a leader, he was a chieftain and he did not have any weakness.

The Angel of Death walked around him, humming words quietly and rapidly. Everyone watched with open eyes and waited with bathed breath. He felt the cold bronze of the cup graze against his back while she lifted it above his head. Slowly, she flipped it. All of her blood came pouring down his head, covering his face, staining his hair. It was in his nostrils, in his mouth, choking him, blocking his air supply.

Though her blood was no longer warm, it burned as it dripped down his chest, soaking through his shirt. It made the fabric clung to his skin while his tress weighted heavy on his shoulder.

He could smell only her, he could taste only her. She was everywhere, covering him, teasing him with one last ghost of her presence, threatening to break the dam he had very carefully built. His tears were his alone and now her blood was his to taste, his to remember. Sesshomaru did not want to stand in front of the adoring crowd; he wanted to be alone with her in a place where her heart was still beating, where her skin was still warm. He desperately craved the smile that haunted his dreams, the sound of laughter that sounded like a melody. He never got to hear it enough. When they were together she cried, she did not laugh.

He desired a place where she was not floating away behind him, burning away like rotten flesh.

While they roared, he was taken back to a recent memory, one that haunted his mind ever since the morning. Her lips upon his ear, tickling the flesh with their softness. Her fingers tangling through his hair, brushing it while keeping him close. She was sharing a secret, a thought she did not want anyone else to hear.

 

I love you.

 

And just as quickly as the words had left her lips, she had pulled away.

 

Those were the last words she told him, the last that mattered. She ordered him to remember. He did not want that. He wanted to forget everything about her. That face, those hands that felt so frail in his own. The taste of her, the feel of her legs, the flatness of her stomach and the warmth of her heart.

She left him the sound of her voice and the wind carried it through, battling the storm to reach his ears.

I love you.

…oOoOoOoOo...

Moons passed, early spring turned into a warm, late summer. Raging storms spared them, safe for the one that occurred on that horrendous day. The village was prospering, feasts from a recent raid decorating the town, supplying the vicinity with a festive mood. Since Sesshomaru’s take over of the chieftain’s position, wars were less bloody on their end and more gains were obtained.

People were pleased with the changes, the lack of deaths and alcohol poured like there was no tomorrow. Despite the good omens, whispers did not take long before emerging from the town. They wondered about him. A strong, handsome chieftain like him should not be unmarried. He should have a woman following closely behind him, heavily pregnant with sons.

And yet, he always walked the paths alone.

He ignored the words they spoke about him, the evil spitefulness. Since his loss, the illusions never came back, the dreams of the future strayed away from him and his nights were filled with empty thoughts. He was rested but he never saw glimpse of visions. He quit believing in it, knowing that one day he would follow what was expecting of him but his heart would not be in it.

His arms were crossed behind his back, his hands intertwined together, while he walked and inspected the surroundings, relishing in their recent winnings. People approached him to offer him some of their goods and his slave took them while he nodded in gratitude. A lonely sigh escaped his lips while he chose to turn left, hoping to return to his quarters.

And then, something bumped into him.

The world stopped, his lungs were crushed and his lips parted. For a split moment, she was there. Long black locks, blue eyes shining like the moon, red petal lips that reminded him of blood. She smiled at him, the spark reaching her eyes.

Then it faded.

…Because it was not her in front of him, but someone else.

The hair fooled him and it still did. The eyes though, they were a creamy cocoa color while her lips shun a tone of pale pink like the roses. There was no mistaken the resemblance however. She smiled like her, she blushed the same way, red spreading on her cheeks, but she was not her. It was not until she winced that he realized that during the commotion he had grabbed her. His claws had broken through the fabric of her pure white dress, showing the flesh beneath it.

“My apologies,” she quickly said when his eyes focused on hers.

He dismissed it by a shake of his head. He never saw her before – he would have noticed, he would have thought her ghost was following him around.

“Your name?” he ask, almost rudely, his heart threatening to begin beating again.

“Lady Kikyo, my Lord.”

Although he was meant to release her, he found that he could not quite let go of her arm.

For the first time since her passing, the wind ceased to whisper those three little words.

…oOoOoOoOo...

**Author's Note:**

> Fin
> 
>  
> 
> -Aiko-san & Madison


End file.
